Summer is a busy time. School comes to an end. There
are final exams, the last day of classes, graduation. This year I particularly noticed
that my students were on edge. Anticipating a miraculous event about to happen, their
focus is off. Their concentration is poor. Something is on their mind. It is not that they
know the end of the school year is coming, but rather that they are impatiently waiting
for the last day to arrive. Even the teachers are in an altered state. Over coffee in
the morning, I ask a colleague, "How are you?" He replies, "I'll be better
in a couple of days."

During the middle of the summer, I'll run into
students and colleagues. More often than not, some will say, "I can't wait for school
to begin. I'm ready to go back." Some look with anticipation for summer vacation to
end so they can send their own children back to school and return to a more established
daily routine.

It appears we are constantly waiting for something,
even though we are not always certain what we are waiting for or what is to follow. We
wait for Christmas, our birthday, a driver's license, the prom, our eighteenth birthday,
the arrival of the new car, the acceptance of a mortgage, payday, a promotion, a raise,
stock dividends, a vacation, a movie, a bonus, the end of military service, the start of a
new job, the arrival of a baby, surgery, release from the hospital, the builders, the
plumber, the mail, etc., ad infinitum. It is not that we are in a hurry, but rather, that
we are quickly going nowhere. We are caught in the anticipated contentment promised by the
future and perpetually awaiting the future to happen.

Short Timer

My short-lived Navy career taught me how to wait.
The running joke during my two-years on active duty was, "Hurry up and wait."
When I arrived in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, I quickly discovered that most of the enlisted men
were counting the days they had left before they got out. This waiting for was so
pervasive, so intense and so quickly established that hundred-day calendars were drawn up,
distributed and placed on the locker door next to a sailor's bunk within days of one's
arrival. This short-timer's calendar is a grid of squares. As each day passed a square was
colored in until one square was left: the day one left "the rock."

Upon discharge, we went home and promptly began
waiting in the unemployment line, the grocery store checkout line, the bus or train stop,
the waiter or waitress, the check at a restaurant, and so on.

There is however, an inherent, and what should be
obvious, question associated with all our waiting for which goes beyond: what
are we waiting for. Instead, we might consider: why we are so mired in waiting
for something? It is not the time span between the present moment and the event that
affects us so. Rather, it is the obsessing over the event itself and our impatience that
causes us consternation. Waiting for is a synonym for not wanting to be here now. It is an
imaginary leap, albeit at times a painful one, into a projection that would falsely have
us believe that we are in control of the universe.

The Roots of
Waiting

We live in a society that is dominated by the
Judeo-Christian ethic. We have a long history of using time as a measurement between
anticipated events. For example, the Christian view holds the belief that our reward for
living a good life will happen in the future after the death of the body. In Catholicism,
we look forward to the day when we can be in the midst of the beatific vision. And, if we
are not so fortunate, we may spend our time in a much hotter place, presumably with no
possibility of waiting to get out.

I remember as a youngster in Catholic grammar
school, the theory behind purgatory, a place where we atone for our small or venial sins
waiting to get into God's company. Our time waiting for could be shortened by the
intercession of prayer by our loved ones and friends. We await appropriate purging before
moving on to our just reward. The upshot of all this training in waiting for is
internalizing the belief that we can not have bliss or meaningful happiness now, that
somehow suffering and pain in this world are a necessary precursor to what comes next,
sometime in the future, in the afterlife.

In Judaism, we await the coming of the Messiah and
our salvation. The waiting has been going on for thousands of years. We are at odds with
the present moment because that which we seek, salvation now, perfect peace, total
happiness is an external myth we place our faith in. "Man's adaptation to the world
is largely governed by the development of the imagination and hence of an inner world of
the psyche which is necessarily at variance with the external world. Perfect happiness,
the oceanic feeling of complete harmony between inner and outer worlds, is only
transiently possible. Man is constantly in search of happiness but, by his very nature, is
precluded from finally or permanently achieving it..."

As a consequence, we convince ourselves that life is
suffering and happiness now is unattainable. We force ourselves to accept the self
determined illusion that we can expect no better in this life. In Constructing the
Universe, David Layzer, discussing Einstein's theory of gravitation writes, "The
structure of space-time determines its contents no less than its contents determine its
structure. Structure and content are interdependent and inseparable aspects of a single
physical reality: space-time-energy." From this physics of space-time we draw
the analogy which states that the structure of our thinking about our life determines what
our life is as much as what our life is determines the structure of our thinking. Our
frame of mind and what we experience are thus in part, interdependent and inseparable
aspects of our waiting-for energy which is part of our spiritual reality.

Balance

Waiting for energy is balanced by patience.
We set aside the anxiety of hoping things happen soon or quickly by letting go the
tension, by restructuring our thinking with the secure knowledge that the anticipated will
happen soon enough. In a new translation of I Ching, Kerson and Rosemary Huang
comment on the hexagram waiting composed of the two trigrams: water over heaven.
They comment that "the Oracle teaches us to be patient. What is now yields inevitably
to what will be; things are passing, and nothing is unchanging. Perception of the flow of
Yin and Yang enables us to wait without anxiety. Free from hope or expectation, doubt,
confusion, and frustration, we can await the coming of both good fortune and peril with
equanimity. Courage comes from inner security and is expressed in resolute action and
perseverance. Preparation of the body and mind during a period of waiting allows us to
face the most terrifying events with cool, deliberate resolve." The idea of Yin and
Yang is that of change, of one thing flowing into another and the other flowing back into
the first.

The Huangs further state that "some of the most
profound and healing psychological experiences which individuals encounter take place
internally..." In Metaphoria, the idea that the I is where experience
begins creating the conditions for the next appearance, has been a recurring thread since
the first issue two years ago. Ken Keyes, in his Handbook to Higher Consciousness,
succinctly and quite effectively offers steps to stop waiting for and start being here
now. Steps four through six of the twelve pathways state:

I always remember that I have everything I need
to enjoy my here and now - unless I am letting my consciousness be dominated by demands
and expectations based upon the dead past or the imagined future.

I take full responsibility here and now for
everything I experience, for it is my own programming that creates my actions and also
influences the reactions of people around me.

I accept myself completely here and now and
consciously experience everything I feel, think, say, and do (including my emotion-backed
addictions) as a necessary part of my growth into higher consciousness.

Gratitude

When we are stuck waiting for, we might remember to
think, "How soon will you realize that the only thing you don't have is the direct
experience that there's nothing you need that you don't have?" How wonderful those
two years at Guantanamo Bay might have been if, at the time, I had realized that I had
everything I needed? That was twenty-five years ago! There was incredible snorkeling in
the beautiful, unspoiled Guantanamo River. There was a large iguana (which we named Iggie)
at the secluded, off-limits beach. After a few days bringing oranges, he greeted us like a
puppy dog expecting us to give him the usual treat. The fresh pomegranates, coconuts,
mangos, and prickly pears were outside my window for the taking. My mindset however, was
caught up in a torrent of waiting for energy that religiously and foolishly had me
coloring each passing day on the short-timers calendar, anticipating something better to
happen just one day less into the future. The best was right in front of my nose.

Waiting for is the antithesis of being grateful.
Just as fear and love are opposites of each other, anxious waiting is the opposite of
gratitude. Fear is the absence of love in the same manner that waiting for is the absence
of thankfulness. Love is how I walk in gratitude. Waiting for is how I walk in
self-indulgence and selfishness. Instead of counting days before I went home, I could have
watched wondrous sunsets. Rather than wait impatiently for a mortgage closing, we can be
grateful that we are in a position where we can afford to buy a home.

Our society does not foster patience, compassion,
volunteerism and gratitude. The TV programs and the movies that we watch aspire to the
ideals of a quick fix. From microwaved TV dinners to pills that are hyped to quickly
eliminate just about any condition the human body develops, instant relief is sold in a
bottle. The quick spot remover, carpet cleaner, dish washer, thirst quencher, etc. all
appeal to our anxiety over not feeling good enough, not having enough, etc. We wait for
when we feel better, have a shiny car, clean laundry, a cold brew and so on. Even more
sadly, our films have a tendency to solve differences with a quick call to violence. In a
nation where so many people are waiting so long for everything that they do not have, it
is easy to sell just about anything that offers little or no waiting. But, this is
mindless existence. Advertisers count on this state of mind to sell their products. They
know (and encourage) viewers to always be waiting for something. This way they can offer a
fast (but temporary) solution.

Phantom Cargo

Cargo cults developed in the Pacific Islands. These
cults are found in cultures where the people are exposed to explorers or others with more
sophisticated technology or transportation bearing goods and possibly weapons. They see
the visitors as ancestral saviors from the past. No amount of explanation will convince
them otherwise.

In Cows, Pigs, Wars and Witches, The Riddles of
Culture, the anthropologist Marvin Harris writes about phantom cargo. He relates the
story of the indigenous people of New Guinea building bamboo radio towers, wooden
airplanes, airstrips, using tin cans for microphones calling for the return of their
ancestors. The people are waiting for dead ancestors returned to life to improve their
lot. "The natives are waiting for a total upgrading of their lives. The phantom ships
and planes will bring the beginning of a whole new epoch. The dead and living will be
reunited, the white man thrown out or subordinated, drudgery abolished; there will be no
shortages of anything...Our own traditions prepare us for salvation, resurrection,
immortality - but with airplanes, cars, and radios? No phantom ships for us. We know where
such things come from. Or do we?"

How similar we today are to these native people. Our
phantom cargo arrives through purchase and acquisition. Our lot improves with the purchase
of the new car that is delivered by the voluptuous and sexy model. Our full load of party
ancestors clad in bikinis and skimpy swim trunks arrives with the Silver Bullet complete
with white sandy beach. Just like the natives, we too are waiting for.

Messianism

Marvin makes a compelling case for linking
messianism with phantom cargo phenomena. Waiting for the messiah is similar to waiting for
cargo. Both put the reward later and prevent us from the serenity of the moment that is
available to us each and every moment. This is, I believe, why A Course in Miracles
and many books written about it or based on it have touched so many people. In its
somewhat verbose way, A Course in Miracles gets across the message that a mere
shift in perception is all that is required for the miracle to happen. Our anxiety fades
away.

Waiting for can be seen as another ego defense. The
misconception that we are not good enough, nor have enough, places us into fear,
preventing us from being loving.

Gnosis

In response to messianism, and in collaboration with
A Course in Miracles (and other writings including modern psychotherapy), the Gospel
of Thomas says, "If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will
save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will
destroy you." Thomas is referring to being conscious, aware and knowing oneself.
Elaine Pagels in The Gnostic Gospels refers to pursuing gnosis (to know) as
engaging "each person in a solitary, difficult process, as one struggles against
internal resistance. They (the Gnostics) characterized this resistance to gnosis as the
desire to sleep or to be drunk - that is, to remain unconscious." The resistance to
letting go of waiting for is the ego in action.

Alice Caldwell Rice says, "Life is made up of
desires that seem big and vital one minute, and little and absurd the next. I guess we get
what's best for us in the end." Rather than waiting for with anxiety, we might try
being grateful that we have many unmet desires since, "Wants, ultimately not for our
own good, can open the way to many unneeded and painful experiences." Exchanging the
anxiety for gratitude spares us much unnecessary unpleasantry. What is going on right now
in our life is the step toward what happens next. Surely, gratitude instead of anxiety
sets up a better foundation for what comes next. Rather than waiting for phantom cargo, we
see that we have cargo enough.

"Stop striving after all kinds of things; stop
dreaming, scheming, planning, working, achieving, attempting, moving, manipulating, trying
to get somewhere. You forget, the simplest most obvious thing, which is to be here...If we
are not here, we exist only on the fringes of reality. We don't sufficiently value simply
being. Instead we value what we want to accomplish, or what we want to possess. It is our
'biggest mistake.' "

When we are in the present, we are not waiting for.
When we are offering service, we are in the present. This is gratitude.

Service as Gratitude

When we bring forth what is in us, we stop waiting.
Our gratitude can be expressed as service. Baba Ram Dass writes, "This is the vision
spiritual tradition offers: service as a journey of awakening. The value of such a
perspective on our work is not so much that it leads to exalted states and indescribable
experiences. It is enough that it can help keep me straight."

The folk music group, Bright Morning Star, in one of
my favorite folk songs written by Charlie King, sing, Our life is more than our work and
our work is more than our job." Our work is to get out of the ego-conditioned
rationale of, "What's in it for me?" and, replace it with, "How can I
Help?"

Baba Ram Dass and Paul Gorman in How Can I Help, write,
"In the incredible power of what seems such a simple act, we are reminded of what a
precious gift we have received and can pass on what can be welcomed with such gratitude
and wonder, is a glimpse of our common divinity revealed in an ordinary act of kindness
which any one of us can perform.

"Helping out is not some special skill. It is
not confined to a single part or time of our lives. We simply heed the call of that
natural caring impulse within and follow where it leads us."

Service need not be formal. The mere willingness to
be helpful opens a world of possibilities. We may open the door for someone. We may share
a talent with someone less skillful. We might change a tire for someone, teach someone to
read, read a story to another, fix a bicycle, give someone the time of day, bake bread and
give a few loaves away, etc.

Activism is also a form of service. To give of
ourselves for a higher cause is another way of offering thanks. We might begin or work in
a food cupboard or pantry or a homeless shelter. We may organize to foster peace and
social justice. We could deliver meals on wheels, and so on. There is no end to the
opportunity for doing service.

Closing

I began this issue of Metaphoria with the
story about my students and teaching colleagues waiting for the end of school. A few years
ago, I decided that I would no longer do that. I began to reprogram my thinking by not
looking forward to weekends, holidays, vacations, paychecks, etc. I did this by letting
the thoughts and images of these future events simply pass quickly through my
consciousness.

When a student or colleague engaged me in a
conversation and expressed the desire for vacation to be here I responded with, "If
vacations were fun, I would not be having this conversation and your good company. It's
nice to be talking with you."

After a few weeks this thinking became automatic. It
became so automatic and successful that payday came surprising me with a paycheck in my
mailbox. Holidays came and went quietly. The school year was great. The same happens with Metaphoria.
I do not wait for the next topic to happen. The ideas for the newsletter have a way of
choosing themselves.

There is a great sense of relief when we let go of
waiting for. We are at ease with ourself and the universe. Each moment then becomes a
gracious step on the journey which is its own reward.

Quotations

Man's desires are like the small metal coins he
carries in his pocket. The more he has the more they weigh him down.

Satya Sai Baba

Five senses; an incredibly abstract intellect; a
haphazardly selective memory; a set of preconceptions and assumptions so numerous that I
can never examine more than a minority of them - never even become conscious of them at
all. How much of total reality can such an apparatus let through.

C. S. Lewis

The present moment is a powerful goddess.

Goethe

I am on the present. I cannot know what tomorrow
will bring forth. I can only know what the truth is for me today. That is why I am called
upon to serve, and I serve it in all lucidity.

Igor Stravinsky

We cannot put off living until we are ready. The
most salient characteristic of life is its coerciveness: it is always urgent, "here
and now" without any possible postponement. Life is fired at us point-blank.

Josť Ortega y Gasset

There is no cure for birth and death, save to enjoy
the interval.

Santayana

We are here and it is now. Further than that all
human knowledge is moonshine.

H. L. Mencken

My dog doesn't worry about the meaning of life.
She may worry if she doesn't get her breakfast, but she doesn't sit around worrying about
whether she will get fulfilled or liberated or enlightened.

Charlotte Joko Beck

You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting
right at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be
quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you unmasked, it has no
choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet. Kafka

If you have a glass of good wine in front of
you, you can describe its color and smell its aroma. Being here and now is drinking it.